Unsafe Hands

[Oliver Cade Halliwell]

Oliver had had a rough few months. The end of the Quidditch season was insight and it was becoming less and less likely that he would be wearing the blue robes of the Tornadoes for another season. Oliver had been alerted to the article that lay in front of him by his cousin Ariana and what he read had left him in the mood to trade in his butterbeer for a fire whiskey. The crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet lay on the table in front of him, he had read it over multiple times yet he still found himself looking down at the paper and catches glimpses of the article.

Unsafe Hands: What had happened to Oliver Halliwell?

Former Ravenclaw utility player and current Tutshill Tornadoes keeper Oliver Halliwell was once considered one of the brightest and most promising young talents in the British and Irish Quidditch league. The spectacular performances during the Tornadoes last title winning season even earned him a place as England's alternate. However recent performances would suggest young Halliwell's career may be over before it even started. Usually considered a 'safe pair of hands' the Quaffle has been through Halliwell's hoops more times during the last few games than his entire career so far. It is only thanks to the Tornadoes tireless seeker that the team hasn't taken a complete nosedive down the league table. With Halliwell now being ommited from the most recent England team the question remains, what will the Tornadoes do with their floundering keeper? As questions of his future mount, this reporter can not help but recount the original uproar when the Tornadoes decided to play Halliwell as a keeper despite playing as chaser and beater for his school house.

Oliver's fingers tightened as he read through the article again. There was already talk that he would be released from the team. As the season's end grew closer Oliver knew that he would have to think about his future away from the Tornadoes. He reached out and grabbed his drink, raising it to his lips to finish off the fire whiskey. With the words of the article fresh in his mind, he couldn't take his eyes off the image on the front page of the sports section, himself, falling off his broom whilst trying to make a save.

 

[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte's life had always involved her moving around a lot. It was just a simple matter of fact for the blonde, but as it turned out, she had finally been able to settle on one place so that had been a great development. She had well and truly moved to New Zealand, and honestly Charlotte had never really been happier. She loved her new home, she loved her job, it was stable where her life had often not been. Not even during her time in Paris had her life ever really been that stable. Now, it was. She just had to continue with various family duties that she had always had to deal with. It was part of her life as much as fashion was. She was happy with everything, but had to still deal with going back and dealing with her family, when the occasion called for it. Which was why she was back in the United Kingdom, her brother and his wife had just announced that they were having a baby, and so Charlotte had found herself back in England to celebrate this. However, after giving the couple a gift, which had been a whole wardrobe for the child when it was born. They didn't know what sex it was yet, but Charlotte had kept that in mind when she had got the gift. Getting relatively gender-neutral clothes. However, she had left shortly after that. It had been all fun and games until her mother had cornered her in the room to ask about every part of her life. The clothes that she'd been sending, the suggestions about her hair, and things like that. Charlotte had spent ten minutes with her mother, and had felt ready to break down into tears, and it had been that which had spurred her into leaving the room.

Charlotte had grown very accustomed to the magical world since living in New Zealand, so instead of doing what she would've done before which was find a local muggle bar, she decided to seek out a magical place. Which in London hadn't actually taken overly long. Despite the fact that it was late evening, and that most people were dressed up, Charlotte seemed to outshine most with the elegance of her clothes. She had her hair neatly styled, and the blonde curls sat over one shoulder. She had a light amount of make up which perfectly highlighted the right areas of her face. She was wearing an elegant and perfect fitting dark blue dress which stopped just above her knees, and with that had matched a pair of simple black heels which gave her legs extra length and made her look incredibly slim. She noticed that she was much more dressed up that most, almost as soon as she had entered the magical bar, she glanced around, and then went straight to the bar, ordering a glass of whatever wine they head. She didn't mind about the colour, or the age, she just wanted something to calm her down. She glanced around the place, looking for somewhere to sit, and that was when she noticed the man, who seemed to be about her age, crumpling up a bit of paper, or the paper more like. She wondered why he would do that. Though the boy seemed a little familiar. She wondered where she knew him from. he didn't seem like the type to be interested in fashion. She glanced back at the bar man, as he handed her, her drink, before deciding that she would go sit with him. She didn't even bother asking about if she could sit next to him, but just did. She smiled at the boy in front of her. "Rough day?" she asked with a smile, if she could help someone else, then maybe she would feel better too.
​

 

[Oliver Cade Halliwell]

Oliver felt like he had spent days sat at that table wallowing in his own self pity, occasionally sneaking glances at the copy of the he had scrunched and unfolded more times than he could count. He hadn't paid a lot of attention to the comings and goings around him, despite playing Quidditch for club and country Oliver did not get recognized often and he hoped that this article didn't change anything, the last think he wanted was to be noticed because of the article and be approached.

Out the corner of his eye he noticed a young woman walk in the bar, she was easily the most overdressed person in the pub and quiet possibly the most beautiful. The sight of her had almost cheered him up, at the very least she had distracted him from life's problems for a few moments. As he turned back to the table he caught sight of the newspaper again and he sank back to his previous mood. For the last few months he had been weighing up a possible move back to New Zealand, it's where his mother was and his old school friends. Whenever the Quidditch season ended Oliver would spend all his time there anyway, it wouldn't be too difficult, he already had a flat he stayed in when he was over there so it would just be a simple matter of joining a local team.

Oliver was lost in his own thoughts when out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl from the bar making her way over and sitting at his table. He paused, as she greeted him. He wasn't sure if she had recognized him or if she sat with him because his was the least occupied table in the pub. She had asked if he had a rough day, he sighed, nodded and slid the paper in her direction.

 

[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte had always hated going home to her mother, right when she'd come to the realisation that no matter what she did she would never be good enough for her mother. Charlotte once she'd realised this, had decided that trips home were to be limited, and never for long. She had her own life to lead, and she was tired of living it by her mother's rules. It was why she had felt pretty annoyed when her mother had chosen the happy occasion of her sister-in-laws pregnancy. She couldn't want to have another little niece or nephew running around. Her eldest brother had already had a child, and Charlotte was known to send home gifts to them incredibly often. But, the last time her mother had been behaved enough to not mention Charlotte. Though, the blonde imagined that was because the last time, she had been living in Paris and her mother was still the one getting the final say on all her clothes, as well as being the one who was always getting them to be tightly fitting, form hugging as she'd say. Despite Charlotte knowing fashion better, and being a lot more stylish than her mother. Charlotte was better living away from her family where she could grow better as her own person and no longer with her mother and those clothes that made her incredibly self-conscious. It was her mother which had driven her out the house that night, and away from the celebrations that were occurring at home and to this magical bar in London. Like most muggle places, bartenders rarely asked Charlotte for ID, she had always looked older, and she found that no matter how conservatively she dressed, their eyes tended to not pay attention to what age she could be. Though, Charlotte was always that she wasn't part veela, since that would be a curse more than a blessing. She knew a good number of Veela's from her time in Beauxbatons, but she was happier without being that.

The man that she had spotted and then sat down in front of, did seem like he'd had a pretty rough day or days even. He seemed a little familiar, but she didn't really know who he was. Due to her father, and her job she knew a lot of people. She saw a lot of faces and met a lot of people. Not all of whom that she ended up remembering in the slightest. So, he could very well be one of those people. However, at her question, instead of a response, the man sighed and then slid towards her the paper that was crumbled beside him. She took a small sip of her wine, which tasted a lot better than she had imagined it would, and then looked at the paper in front of her. The article as it turned out was about this man, and it wasn't exactly very positive. She read it over a number of times quickly, before looking up at the man with a small apologetic looking smile. Charlotte's family was no stranger to bad press. Because her father was a Lord, and the general high status of her family, the family had often been subjected to bad press. As well as Charlotte's stint in modelling and now with her fashion. She was no stranger to bad press, but she knew how to deal with it. Perhaps this man did not. "I am sorry" she told him, sliding the paper back to him. "The press can be overly critical, I am sure things are not as bad as this is making it seem. In my experience with the press, they prefer to be more critical than the reality because it brings in more readers. Take it from someone who knows." she tried to say cheerfully, hoping that things were not as bad as it was saying. "I can't offer you any other words of comfort. I do hope things get better" Charlotte wasn't sure what else to say to this man, Oliver. Other than what she'd already said, she didn't know enough about quidditch to say anything else. "Charlotte," she introduced to him with a smile,

"So you play quidditch professionally? That's probably why you look a little familiar. How long have you been playing?" Charlotte smiled at him, taking another sip of her wine, and then arranging herself slightly better in the seat. Crossing her legs to take some of the weight off her heels, and to sit in the polite manner that her mother had always taught her.
​

 

[Oliver Cade Halliwell]

Oliver sat silently as the girl in front of him read the paper. He thought he saw the faintest hint of recognition in her eye when she looked at him. He had that with a lot of people met, as if they should know who he was but couldn't place him. It seemed common for Oliver that he went unnoticed by many wizards and witches, who would often claim to be die hard Quidditch fans and even follow the national team religiously. Oliver often found these people could name the entire line up of Quidditch teams from Bulgaria, Brazil, France or even Australia but heaven for bid they knew the man who kept goal for England. It didn't bother him personally, it more a sad commentary of England Quidditch fans that they didn't recognize a member of their precious team when he was standing in front of him.

When the girl finished the article she flashed him something that only made him feel worse, an apologetic smile. It was like a dagger to the heart, and it certainly wasn't the footing he wanted to get off on with such a beautiful woman. "You're right, the press are overly critical at times, however in that case the ideal would be to not be mentioned by critical reporters," Oliver ran his hands through his hair, then quickly ran his hand over the top of it to lay it flat. Once and for all he crumpled up the newspaper and pulled out his wand, "Incendio," He muttered and the paper burst into flames in his hand, he let the ashes fall into an ash tray on the table and dusted off his hands. Oliver then turned his attention back to the girl in front of him who had just introduced herself, a move that traditionally predated any other forms of communication between strangers. "Oliver," He replied with a friendly and warming, if not a little forced, smile.

"Yes, I do play Quidditch, I've been Keeper for the Tutshill Tornadoes for two years now, although between you and me, I'm considering a move and this..." He nodded his head at the smouldering ashes that lay between them, "...has done nothing to sway be against it," She was the first person he had confided in about his potential move. That being said other than his teammates and the occasional catch up with Kiara, Oliver didn't have anyone in his life to confide in. It was nice to have a stranger to unload on.

 

[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte had never been that interested in Quidditch. She had never been allowed to play it, and flying didn't interest her in the slightest really. She was much more the type who every so often read a news article about it with her morning coffee. But even at that, she wasn't the type who thought about it often, or kept up to date. For all she knew this guy sitting in front of her could be the world's best quidditch player and she would honestly be none the wiser. She gave him another smile as he replied. It was clear that this was probably not the first time that he had experienced bad press, or really press of any kind. Since more often than not, it was not at all positive. She watched him carefully, sure it would be ideal that they weren't mentioned at all, that critical reporters stayed out of the lives of people like him, or herself. "As my lovely mother always says, there is really no such thing as bad press so long as you swing it in your favour" She flashed him a smile, though it was easy to hear the bitterness in her tone as she spoke. Charlotte did not enjoy the press, if it was good or bad, she didn't care for it. She preferred to lead her life in privacy, though with her family, it wasn't always possible. Her father dealt with the limelight a lot, as did the rest of the family by association. It made the whole magic thing a little complicated at times. She pushed away suddenly, as the man set the paper alright. She didn't expect him to do something like that. That was startling. She didn't particular enjoy being startled, though she had no problem with fire. Instead however, of over thinking that, she just smiled at the man, and took a sip of her wine, and introduced himself as Oliver.

She held out a hand to him, "Enchante" she replied quickly. Glad that as an adult she no longer felt the need to be as polite as she had been as a child. No longer address everyone by sir, or ma'am. Charlotte let the man, Oliver answer her questions, she didn't really know the tutshill tornadoes that well. She didn't know quidditch all that well. Charlotte gave the man a small smile, moving, to a different team, or country? That was really the question for him. "Don't give up just yet." she told him with a smile, "Perhaps things will improve on the team, and the press are just being typically awful." she was generally a very cheerful person, her mother who had always been kind to her to a certain extent was overly harsh, and her harshness was often what drove Charlotte's kindness. She didn't understand when people weren't. It was the easiest thing. "If you moved, where would you move to?" she asked him, wondering if in talking to him he'd be able to gage how seriously this was, and if he really thought moving would solve it. She didn't know much about quidditch, but surely it was like most sports, the more work you did the easier it was. Work and train hard and you'll be good. She placed the wine glass on the table, "Would you continue to play quidditch, or has that," she motioned to the ashes, "Completely put you off that line of work?" she asked, surely it hadn't, that wouldn't be good if it had. He'd barely started out. "You're young, starting afresh wouldn't even be that hard. You'd be very capable. I'm sure" Charlotte added, "I mean, I've moved three times since leaving school, and I'm in the exact job I want, doing what I love. Perhaps you can do the same, if this article has driven you away from something that you love"
​

 

[Oliver Cade Halliwell]

Oliver couldn't help but hear a little bitterness in Charlotte's voice as she talked about something her mother would say. He decided to let it slide, if he saw her again there would be a time and a place to get into their family problems. As Oliver watched the ashes of the Daily Prophet burn at the the center of the table he began to wonder what he would do next. He looked up at the girl in front of him, the two had just exchanged names and she had held out her hand, in another life he would have gently taken a hold of it and kissed the top of her hand and perhaps said something charming and borderline flirty, Oliver didn't do that anymore. He couldn't. Instead he took her hand, gently and gently shook it as was custom when meeting someone. It was moments like this when Oliver could really appreciate just how different he was no to just a few years ago.

Charlotte continued to talk, she seemed to be trying to comfort Oliver, take away some of the sting of the article and make it seem less important, what she didn't understand was that her presence alone had done that. Simply by being there, near him, talking to him, smiling at him, had seemed to take away some of his troubles, suddenly he didn't feel like the poster boy for England failures, he didn't feel like a flop and he had almost erased the image of himself falling off his broom in the match against the Holyhead Harpies. "If I was to move, it wouldn't be because of the article, it would just be a contributing factor, the final nail in the coffin to use a common muggle phrase," Oliver flashed a coy smile as he thought back to some of the muggle phrases he had picked up of his Dad while he was growing up. It still pained him to think back to those times. "I've been thinking about it for a while, there's not much for me here, there never has been, my whole life is back in New Zealand, my family my friends, a place to live, I'd just need a new team," He paused as he thought in turn about all the people he would be returning to, and perhaps the one person he would be leaving behind if he left Europe. "I'd keep playing of course, its all I know, I'm a Quidditch player there's no other career I want to peruse," Merlin knows he had tried. After leaving school he had tried his hand at a few odd jobs here there and everywhere, but only Quidditch gave him any sense of Job satisfaction.

 

[Charlotte Williams]

The young blonde carefully smiled at the man in front of her, he took her hand when it was extended to him, and shook it politely. She was glad to talk to someone. Even if it was someone she didn't really know all that well. He seemed nice, he seemed to be having a rough time, and she felt that it was her duty to help him. If by the end of the night, there was less miserable person in London then she would be happy. It was why she was smiling, and trying to provide some comfort in her words. It was as she finished, that she really looked at the boy in front of her. As a person who worked in fashion, Charlotte always thought that it pushed her standards pretty high for men, but she had to admit the man was not by any means ugly. He was pretty attractive really. She raised her wine glass to her lips and took a small sip. It wasn't like she'd left the house looking for some company, but the woman more than welcomed it. It was a small thought that she could perhaps even just look out for her friends, she knew that there were some in London, but she didn't want to burden any of them with her woes, so this seemed like the easier better option. It was simpler really. She'd always been the type who focused on other people's problems before her own. The man in front of her, Oliver started speaking again, smiling at the use of the muggle phrase that she'd her father use countless times over the years. It was a common phrase, though not for magical folks. Though once as the man said this, he seemed to have this expression on his face, as if something was wrong, but it was fleeting. Soon after the boy continued speaking.

Smiling slightly as he spoke, so he had friends and family in New Zealand. She had her life split between three places really, but she was happily based in New Zealand. She had made the move and was incredibly happy about it. It was the only smart move that she had made in recent times. She had loved living in Paris, but living in Paris was tricky, in New Zealand, things were just simpler. She could return to Paris whenever she wanted, but she had a lovely, large home waiting for her in New Zealand. One that was her own. "I've been living in New Zealand for about 6 months now. My whole family is here in London, but I prefer New Zealand." She said with a smile, "I lived in Paris before moving to New Zealand, which was nice, but it wasn't the best place for me. I was fortunate enough to find a better job in New Zealand, so I just moved, no second thought" Charlotte's move to New Zealand had perhaps not been that simple, but it had been pretty simple. She had given a lot of thought, but in the end the obvious choice was in front of her. "Have you not even thought about sports commentating, or something like that?" She wasn't trying to sway him away from what he loved, but wanted to know if that was really the only career for him. "And I'm sure that you are good enough to find a new team if you moved, plus, you could live in New Zealand and play for an Australian team at a push." She shrugged slightly, hardly knowing the ins and outs of the quidditch world, but thinking that with the only slight time difference and the closeness of the countries it wouldn't be hard for him to live in country and play in the other.
​

 

[Oliver Cade Halliwell]

Oliver had considered all of his options regarding a switch back to Australia, he had even thought about giving up Quidditch altogether and trying something with his life. It was something he would figure out if the time came but for the moment he lived in England and he played for the Tornadoes. "I have thought about my different options, I guess if anything I would just move and figure things about while I was there, it wouldn't be the best plan but I reckon its the only way I would actually do it, too much planning and thinking and I'd talk myself out of it," Oliver knew that he would have to dive in at the deep end if he ever wanted to go back to New Zealand, that or he would have to be pushed, which if he had another couple of games like he had recently that could also happen.

He did his best to push the haunting images of his latest matches out of his head as he raised his drink up to his lips and took a sip. It was easy to forget his problems when he was sat across from such a beautiful woman. "Yeah, I'd probably find a new team, but I'm not really sure if I want to I suppose," Oliver was in the middle of reevaluating his career.